I'm cold, and because I'm in a fic-y frame of mind, this is happening. I haven't forgotten about my other story, it'll be updated by tomorrow!

Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry. Nutrek belongs to JJ Abrams.

I am just a simple fangirl who owns nothing.

OH and this isn't the ice planet from the movie; Kirk just has the rare misfortune of being marooned in a cold place full of monsters again in this fic…

There was silence, disturbed only by the occasional soft patter of a heavy accumulation of snow falling from an ice shelf.

As far as the eye could see, that was, if there were any eyes to see the view at all, black snow drifted in an endless sheet across the inhospitable grey planet.

And, in fact, there was a solitary pair of eyes surveying the scene with a particular disdain.

They (the eyes in question), were of a blue not commonly seen within four star systems of this insignificant little rock by the name of K'thnorodutd'rkin. The eyes had the misfortune of being attached to one Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, who had been marooned there for several hours, and was beginning to suspect that hypothermia was the least of his worries, despite his inadequate apparel.

This was evidenced by both his tense stance and his clenched fists. Oh, and the screaming.

The screaming, along with the body language he displayed, was most likely in response to the rather large, and rather territorial Grak charging toward him in what could only be described as anger.

The Grak is not a friendly creature on the best of days, but the good Captain had, regrettably, come to find himself directly within the boundaries of the Grak's nesting area. As this Grak was already an irrationally irritable new mother, his placement was not ideal. That, combined with his coloration, which to a Grak, (a greyish species rather similar in base cellular composition to the product of a Terran spider and a Terran cookie-cutter shark when bred under optimum mating conditions, but closer in size and weight to a Terran blue whale), was a signal of disrespect, verging on direct personal insult, made Captain Kirk one unlucky fellow.

Thus, despite being attractive enough to the opposite sex of his own species, (in notable part due to the precise hue and intensity of his eyes) to 'charm' his way out of many delicate and awkward situations, in this instance, the peripheral characteristics of Captain James Tiberius Kirk (of the Starship Enterprise) caused feelings of disgust, anxiety and anger in this individual female.

And thus, much because of the colour of his eyes, along with his skin colour, and the bright gold command shirt he wore, which stood in stark relief to the ebony of the snow cover, Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Starship Enterprise was now running for his life away from an angry female. That was not a new experience in the least; however, previously the female had never been quite as large, nor quite as ugly as the pursuing Grak.

Kirk's breath came out unchecked in intermittent gasps as he ran, heedless of direction or landmark.

As he ran, he ran through a list of people he would have incarcerated on his return.

Definitely the pointy-eared bastard, probably Uhura; maybe not Bones. Although if it weren't for Bones' curiosity, he would be safely aboard the Enterprise right now, asleep in his warm, cosy bed. So, he supposed, Bones was absolutely going to be castigated on his return.

Scotty certainly deserved some sort of horrible punishment. Preferably public and embarrassing.

He tripped and almost fell on a snow-covered rock, checking himself just before he face-planted and ended his Captaincy abruptly.

He'd always thought he would go down with his ship, in some grand gesture, or simply expire peacefully in the sack. But now, he was almost certain it would be death by this weird blotchy tooth-spider thing. Whatever would they write as his epitaph? Here lies the Captain, mauled by a Grak, we left him stranded on some stupid planet because we're idiots, and he never came back. He would have to remember that for…his tombstone.

By now his legs were screaming, his lungs burning and his heart about to explode, and he'd finally lost the big scary monster (who would most likely be offended at the description, being a highly emotionally sensitive sentient being, who might even have understood the Captain's predicament if he had only taken the time to learn Graktuscian in his earlier years).

However, despite his exercise, he could feel the icy chill of the planet cutting through the inadequate material of his shirt and pants, and knew that if he didn't procure additional garments, he would eventually freeze and die, and then they wouldn't even know what to write on his gravestone If he even got a traditional burial from the stingy Starfleet command). He slowed to a jog, trying to ignore the heaviness in his limbs, focusing instead on how much he was going to make each individual member of his crew pay for this.

It had started simply enough…

Another cliffhanger, because I suck!

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